If he could just wedge it open, a slight bit more...
A little more carefully applied brutality, and he felt the maxilla break. Brittle from the heat. No harm done.
He shrugged. At least it was pliable now.
At last he was able to prize the object free. He slid it carefully out, with grim amusement.
"Khuy," he murmured, ironically. "Well, this is going to be ugly."
"They cut off his tongue?" demanded Ocelot, narrowing his eyes, lips pushed into a moue of vague distaste.
"That's what I thought," intoned Andrei, slowly, "at first."
Cut out the tongue, and shove it down the traitor's throat. Gag him, watch him choke on his own treachery. A vicious and common enough mutilation among SMERSH and spy types alike. It would not be unlikely.
"...But this," Isaev smiled bloodlessly, "...while you might find it in a man's mouth, it's rarely his own."
Ocelot's eyebrows vaulted sharply, and his face bloomed into an almost comically exaggerated expression of outrage, like a persian cat who'd unwittingly wandered under a downspout.
"...Do not tell me this, Lieutenant."
Andrei shook his head, dryly.
"Sorry, Major. But that's what we've got."
He sighed and turned his palm up.
"What is that?" asked someone, behind them, sounding fascinated and horrified all at once.
"V pizdu," drawled Isaev. "It's the poor bastard's fucking cock."
Not just his cock, actually, but his entire genitalia.
Lucky that he'd prepared himself for the possibility of what he found.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Andrei set the unhappy surprise carefully aside, and reached back into the mouth.
"More goodies?" muttered Ocelot, rolling his eyes.
"Just one."
Yes, it was accompanied by something else, that the killer had obviously used the flaccid member to ram even further back into the cavity.
"Is that...a rose?" asked Kassian, very quietly, behind him.
Andrei snorted.
"Long stemmed and everything. Romantic, isn't it."
His fingers grasped the head of the flower. It had been inserted stem first, and the barbed thorns caught and tore along the esophageal wall as Andrei sought to draw it free.
He flinched instinctively, even though he knew this particular comrade was feeling no more pain, wherever he'd gone.
A yellow rose.
Significant, but only to Russians. Whereas red roses represented love, and pink friendship and family, yellow carried an entirely different connotation, known to all.
Infidelity.
Yellow roses were never given as gifts to loved ones, and never in even numbers, which made Isaev wonder if there was another rose concealed somewhere on the corpse, to complete the perverse postmortem insult.
Let Khostov find it, if there is, he thought, sardonically. I've had about enough of this treasure hunt.
Isaev's eyes were distantly grim, as were the eyes of every man there.
Holding the abused flower out for the collective's inspection, Andrei was utterly oblivious to the cosmonaut's bizarrely offensive tangent, materializing just beyond the dead meat in front of him.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-01-21 02:23 am (UTC)If he could just wedge it open, a slight bit more...
A little more carefully applied brutality, and he felt the maxilla break. Brittle from the heat. No harm done.
He shrugged. At least it was pliable now.
At last he was able to prize the object free. He slid it carefully out, with grim amusement.
"Khuy," he murmured, ironically. "Well, this is going to be ugly."
"They cut off his tongue?" demanded Ocelot, narrowing his eyes, lips pushed into a moue of vague distaste.
"That's what I thought," intoned Andrei, slowly, "at first."
Cut out the tongue, and shove it down the traitor's throat. Gag him, watch him choke on his own treachery. A vicious and common enough mutilation among SMERSH and spy types alike. It would not be unlikely.
"...But this," Isaev smiled bloodlessly, "...while you might find it in a man's mouth, it's rarely his own."
Ocelot's eyebrows vaulted sharply, and his face bloomed into an almost comically exaggerated expression of outrage, like a persian cat who'd unwittingly wandered under a downspout.
"...Do not tell me this, Lieutenant."
Andrei shook his head, dryly.
"Sorry, Major. But that's what we've got."
He sighed and turned his palm up.
"What is that?" asked someone, behind them, sounding fascinated and horrified all at once.
"V pizdu," drawled Isaev. "It's the poor bastard's fucking cock."
Not just his cock, actually, but his entire genitalia.
Lucky that he'd prepared himself for the possibility of what he found.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Andrei set the unhappy surprise carefully aside, and reached back into the mouth.
"More goodies?" muttered Ocelot, rolling his eyes.
"Just one."
Yes, it was accompanied by something else, that the killer had obviously used the flaccid member to ram even further back into the cavity.
"Is that...a rose?" asked Kassian, very quietly, behind him.
Andrei snorted.
"Long stemmed and everything. Romantic, isn't it."
His fingers grasped the head of the flower. It had been inserted stem first, and the barbed thorns caught and tore along the esophageal wall as Andrei sought to draw it free.
He flinched instinctively, even though he knew this particular comrade was feeling no more pain, wherever he'd gone.
A yellow rose.
Significant, but only to Russians. Whereas red roses represented love, and pink friendship and family, yellow carried an entirely different connotation, known to all.
Infidelity.
Yellow roses were never given as gifts to loved ones, and never in even numbers, which made Isaev wonder if there was another rose concealed somewhere on the corpse, to complete the perverse postmortem insult.
Let Khostov find it, if there is, he thought, sardonically. I've had about enough of this treasure hunt.
Isaev's eyes were distantly grim, as were the eyes of every man there.
Holding the abused flower out for the collective's inspection, Andrei was utterly oblivious to the cosmonaut's bizarrely offensive tangent, materializing just beyond the dead meat in front of him.